Juxtaposition
by AJ Maxima
Summary: Takahiro had been an organ donor, and in a bid to save a dying, eight-year-old Misaki, he gave up his own heart in exchange. It was after nine years of battling depression and resentment towards the youngest Takahashi, that Akihiko finally decided to get to know him in hopes to find some semblance of the man he still loved and couldn't let go. "It should've been you."
1. Don't Forget to Smile

**Chapter 1: Don't Forget to Smile**

What lied beyond the brink of despair was the possibility of hope… if only for a moment.

And every year, when the calendar landed on August eighth, Misaki would devote spending majority of the day—aside from school—isolated in his red pajamas, contemplating if all that Takahiro sacrificed had been worth it. Starting the morning by unplugging the house phone's cord from the white socket on beige wall was his usual objective on what was supposed to be a celebratory day: his seventeenth birthday. His other norm this time of year was sporting darkened bags under his eyes from the daunting memories of the hellish… _accident_ that he'd caused, which took the lives of both of his parents, and his brother, Takahiro.

After that, lonely, green eyes would scan the over the empty home in which he dwelled. Most of the blue furniture—the sofa and the recliner specifically—had been unused since his family's death, and like every morning, Misaki would pace down the carpeted, green hall and creep into what used to be his parents room. The intrusion of dust made him cough, but the seventeen-year-old simply forced out a strained, "Ohayou."

No one called back and he expected as much. The same occurrence happened when he repeated the action upon opening Takahiro's old bedroom.

"Nii-san," he called, flashing an exhausted smile towards the abandoned blue-sheeted bed. "Ohayou…" _I miss you_ , he thought, shutting the door.

Neither of the two rooms had been touched in exactly two years since his aunt and uncle moved out—which had been on the eve of his fifteenth birthday—after they were sure he was capable of taking care of himself. He didn't miss them, of course. They hadn't been particularly interested in raising him, either; they'd only been keen on consuming the insurance money that his parents left them in case...

In case they perished due to unforgiving circumstances, like the one Misaki had caused.

They _did_ manage to visit once a week and drop off groceries and funds so that Misaki could spend it as he pleased. The necessary bills were paid for while Misaki lived alone, but they made it known that once he turned eighteen—one year from now—that he'd have to fend for himself. He often wondered if they'd give him the remaining funds meant for he and Takahiro when that time arrived, but he doubted it.

When a sudden reminder intruded upon his thoughts, Misaki snapped his fingers. "Oh, right. Almost forgot…" He hurried to the hallway closet and retrieved a round, purple bottle of vanilla and jasmine perfume from the middle shelf. On the opposite side, there were two other containers—one a square shape and the other a rectangle. The rectangular one was filled with golden cologne, and it had a heavy musk scent fit for the average adult male. The square container was less strong, and Misaki knew it had been Takahiro's favorite. It was blue in color and he'd always use the spare change his aunt and uncle gave him to purchase these three scents in bulk.

Grabbing all three, he headed back to the living room. On the right side of the couch, he sprayed the cushion with his mother's familiar scent, like he did every week. In the middle, he dabbed a little of Takahiro's cologne on the back of the couch, and he ignored the left side of the area which was his usual spot to sit... "Haven't forgotten about you, dad," he murmured, pacing over to his father's favorite recliner.

It was after he'd made sure his family's favorite aromas lingered around the living room that he glanced at the black clock on the farthest wall of the vicinity. "Gotta get ready for school," he said to himself. He didn't sound the least bit excited, and he was mentally preparing himself to smile throughout the day as he headed to his bedroom.

Later, once he'd showered, and opted to skip breakfast, he pulled his green hoodie over his white shirt and stuffed his wallet into the pocket of his denim jeans. As he rushed to the front door, he grabbed his brown backpack he'd left on the white kitchen counter, along with his house keys, and he exited his home.

 _Here we go_ , he mused, frowning as he locked his front door.

"Ohayou, Misaki!" an elderly woman greeted across the small stone wall. "Happy birthday!"

The one thing that Misaki hated about growing up in the same lower-middle class neighborhood his entire life was that _everyone_ knew his business and they went out of their way to be extra nice to him on his birthday, knowing how saddening the day must've been after such a traumatic experience—one that he blamed himself for entirely.

Before Misaki turned around, he took in a deep breath. _Don't cry_ , he warned himself. _Don't you_ dare _cry, not here…_ A forced grin inched its way onto his lips as he turned and offered the kind woman a quick wave. "Ah!" He bowed, closing his eyes in the movement. "Arigato!"

Feeling a familiar stinging at his eyes, he swiftly righted himself and hurried down the sidewalk to prevent any further unwanted conversation. "Don't forget to smile," he reminded himself, blinking back tears. "Even when you're about break, don't forget to smile…"

These were words that he lived by, words spoken to him by Takahiro.

* * *

On the other side of the city, Akihiko was sitting on his red sofa watching Aikawa edit his latest novel from where she sat on the opposite matching furniture. His violet eyes were observing her blue ones as they read over his material with no indication of intrigue, and a cigarette rested between his lips.

As he leaned back, he tugged his yellow tie off and thought that perhaps it'd be better to change into another shirt, besides the white collared one he was currently donning with a navy-blue vest and some grey slacks. He'd worn it yesterday and he hadn't the opportunity to shower due to finishing his deadline. He always made it a point to finish his deadlines on August eighth… Every other day, though, he'd never be on time.

A noise from Aikawa's end caused his brows to rise, and he positioned his left arm along the back of the couch while propping his right leg onto his right. "Something wrong?" he asked. His quiet, raspy voice sounded tantalizing to most ears, although the redhead was a different breed of woman, and she looked at him with an expression that revealed she was entirely immune to the striking silver-haired author.

"I don't think everything you write should end in angst," she advised, briefly lifting the document for emphasis. "I'm starting to see a pattern in your writing and they all involve this theme..." They were similar to what Akihiko had went through when losing Takahiro.

He regarded the statements with a nod, pulling his cigarette out of his mouth to rest between his middle and index finger. "I can't write anything else." He'd spoken this as he turned away, huffing out smoke through his nostrils.

"Can't, or _won't_?" Aikawa asked as she patted down a wrinkle on her white blouse. Her eyes witnessed the dismaying way his shut and she lowered the manuscript, resting it on her black skirt. "…It's been nine years, hasn't it?"

He made a small hum of acknowledgement, gazing towards the large paneled windows of his penthouse. "It should've been him." He'd spoken the sentence simply, but the scorn behind it was enough to make Aikawa's lips part and her eyes widened.

"You don't mean that," she said softly. "No one could've predicted…" She left the sentence to trail once he glanced her way. After swallowing the collected saliva in her throat, she said, "Maybe you should reach out to him."

He scoffed. "I wouldn't know how to react," he admitted. "I'd probably do something that I'd regret." He was sure of it, although he'd said 'probably' to prevent a slap across the face from the woman. He'd experienced her wrath before; she was brutal when upset.

Aikawa stood and grabbed her nearby black satchel, placing the manuscript inside. "But it could be the closure you need." With that said, she headed to the door of his home.

"What if meeting him has reverse effects?" he asked.

The sound of her retreating heels didn't pause. "Then that's a risk you'll have to decide if you're willing to take, but at least if it doesn't work out, you can still say you tried." She'd made it to the door, and her right hand was resting on the knob. As she pressed her lips together, she lowered her head. "I think you'll be more inclined to visit Misaki once you get over _how_ it happened and realize that the best thing you loved about Takahiro is still perfectly alive and well."

He almost scoffed at the idea. "Really?" His right brow arched. "Where is it then?"

"It's with his little brother, right in his chest."

A surprised gasp emitted from Akihiko, and violet eyes darted towards the entrance as she left. What she spoke had been the truth. Takahiro had entrusted Misaki with the one organ that made Akihiko fall in love with him: his heart.

 _It should've been that brat_ , he thought bitterly. Everything that happened all those years ago had been because of Misaki, after all. He'd never even met the child back then, but Takahiro had been adamant to avoid not bragging about his kid brother every chance he received. Because of this, even when Takahiro had been alive, Akihiko resented Misaki—and the youngest Takahashi was the prime reason why the man grew to hate children.

 _Bothersome little things…_

He rose, taking a drag from his cigarette as his feet paced over the light-brown wooden floor. On his way up the stairs, he saw a slip of paper on the white end table, where the black house phone was located. Picking it up, he read over the contents.

"Aikawa," he said, rolling his eyes as he crumbled the item and tossed it on the floor. He wasn't keen on meeting the teen… However, the further he walked up the stairs, the longer he thought of the address scrawled on the note Aikawa had written. He recognized it, knowing that he used to drop Takahiro off there often. He'd even visited a few times after school, but with as many pictures that he'd seen of Misaki, he'd never met the child.

 _He's seventeen today, Takahiro_ , he mused absently. _That's nine years since you've…_ He made a 'tch' sound, wincing from the thought. Even at the funeral, he'd only seen the child in passing, refusing to give the boy his condolences for fear that he'd make a scene. When visiting Takahiro while the doting big brother was still alive, he had never seen the child around, and he was never told where Misaki was. Now that he remembered, he'd never bothered to ask. Misaki didn't matter in his eyes.

"Probably staying late at school," he said to himself. _And now he's probably going to the same high school that Takahiro attended... I don't have to meet him; I could just see how he's faring…_ In truth, he was hoping that he'd see the teen sporting the same frown he'd been sporting since the accident—the same feelings of regret and depression that he was experiencing. Not even God could help Misaki if Akihiko saw the teen enjoying himself on his birthday, and something as simple as a _smile_ wouldn't be acceptable for Misaki to be displaying in Akihiko's eyes on the anniversary of Takahiro's death.

Hopefully Misaki _would_ forget to smile by the afternoon, when the last bell at school ended and the author decided to pay him a visit.

…

 **A/N:** I've been thinking about this idea for a while, but I hadn't decided to post it until now. I haven't written in third person for a few months so writing this felt a little off. Misaki's also OOC unless in the presence of people so there's that… I'm not sure if I should continue this, since I do have a lot to update, but I did want to at least post this first chapter.

As always, thanks to anyone who's read this and you're welcome to share your opinions, or hit a button. I don't mind either. :)

-AJ


	2. Dangerous Past Times

**A/N: When I saw the alerts and favs for this, I was completely confused lol I wasn't expecting so many so thanks to everyone who's reading this!**

 **Sincerely,**

 **AJ**

 **Chapter 2: Dangerous Past Times**

The time you enjoy wasting is not wasted; that's what the slogan sign said on the entrance to the local teen restaurant Misaki had been dragged to. Wasted Youth was the name—no irony intended. He had no idea why he agreed to allow his friends to treat him on his birthday, but he was over the pleasant interactions before they'd even commenced. It wasn't fair to celebrate, not after the accident he'd caused—after Takahiro gave up his heart when he'd been the _least_ injured after the incident. He was emotionally drained from all the pretending he had to do today—especially the smiling. It was exhausting to be something he wasn't—to force himself into the pretense of happiness when emotionally, he felt like ending it all right there.

The only reason he hadn't was because of…

 _Nii-san_ , he mused. "Why can't I go be with you…?" He'd whispered this, wishing he could see his family. It'd really only take one moment alone like this… one eerie moment of 'what if' and one lapse in judgment.

At only seventeen, Misaki Takahashi new first hand that thinking was a dangerous past time and certainly not for the faint hearted.

The base of Misaki's palm touched his forehead while his shoulders slumped from where he stood in the public bathroom. "Maybe I should leave," he whispered. It beat forcing another simper to benefit everyone else. An aching sigh escaped him while he leaned against the tiled white wall and slowly sank to the marble beige floor. Pulling his knees up to his chest, the teen hugged his legs and buried his face into his jeans.

 _They wouldn't notice if I snuck out from the back… They'd give me crap for it tomorrow at school, though._ He didn't mind.

His shoulders began to rock as he sniffled, and all of the tears he'd been holding back were trying to break free. He'd be damned if he allowed any to fall just yet, not until he arrived home, where he knew he'd be safe from prying eyes. Until then…

"Don't forget to smile," he encouraged, brushing over his eyes with his thumbs. He pushed himself off the floor and pressed his palms against the white counter, inspecting his features in the mirror. Behind him, abandoned blue stalls were opened, white urinals along the left side were vacant, and he was thankful that no one had entered during his moment of weakness. Leaning closer to the mirror, gentle fingers began pulling on bottom lids while green eyes examined the puffiness, along with the light pink surrounding the irises.

"I can't be seen like this," he stated. He had no choice except to sneak out the back, and with a frustrated huff, he pulled the blue birthday card out of his pocket that he'd received during his last period before the final bell rang out that day. His teacher had given him the note with a smile, and he had forced the same one in return…

 _"I was told to tell you that this is from a friend of your brother," his teacher had said._ In gold letters, the words Happy Birthday were written in elegant typography and the entire card was royal blue with dashes of silver etched into the mix, and inside was a signature, along with vital information about this supposed friend of Takahiro's…

"I wonder…" Misaki said as he shifted his weight onto his right foot. As someone entered the bathroom, his eyes darted towards the door, but after seeing that it was neither of his friends, and only a large, balding man in search of the nearest stall to relieve his bowels, those sullen irises trailed back to the card once more. _Do I know this person_? he asked absently, and he squinted as he tried to find some connection with that name. _Have I seen them before?_ They'd hadn't attend the funeral, not that Misaki could remember. Would it be wise to try and contact this unidentified person…? They wanted to meet with him, preferably tonight.

Seeming skeptic as he glanced over the address, his eyes softened. _Maybe this person has questions about Takahiro's heart…_ It would be a disservice to his brother to ignore a request from his friend—almost like being rude to Takahiro himself… Perhaps seeing this person would grant him the closure he needed…

 _Perhaps_ …

* * *

Akihiko had been sitting in his car parked across the school lot for _hours_ —since the last bell had rang—when the adolescents had exited the large, white building, and right after he'd seen a glimpse of Misaki. He thought the teen would be difficult to spot, but he could never forget those guilty, emerald irises… One look at Misaki's miserable face was enough to cause a small, triumphant smirk to grace his own lips. _However_ …

But by the second look, Akihiko had all but gone mad…

 _A smile…_

Misaki had the _nerve_ to smile on the anniversary of Takahiro's death when his friends had approached him and dragged him off for celebrations. _Unnecessarily cheerful_ were the first words that came to mind when describing the seventeen-year-old… _Unworthy_ had been the afterthought.

To avoid getting out of his car, Akihiko had gripped the black steering wheel until the blood left his hands and he sunk further into his beige seat… It took every ounce of restraint he had not to rush out the driver's door… not to go over there and…

 _Damn brat_ , Akihiiko had thought once the teen was out of view.

Violet eyes had been narrowed into peevish slits ever since then, and now, as the rain poured approximately _four_ hours later, and there was no life left wandering on the once bustling streets, Akihiko still had yet to drive off. He refused to drive away, opting to sulk and fume, and as the minutes passed, he realized he'd also gone through his _third_ cigarette packet—the empty, burgundy-boxed evidence now resting in his right hand. Even knowing the time read seven in the evening on the digital clock underneath his black car stereo, Akihiko still wasn't sure if he was in a proper state of mind to drive home in such a miserable condition, and honestly, he hadn't smoked this much since…

 _"You're smoking more than usual today," Takahiro noted in the most pleasant of voices. Dark hair framed his pale face, and he used his middle finger to push his round glasses back up the bridge of his nose. An infectious smile that never left his lips was growing as he watched Akihiko from where he once sat in the passenger's seat of this very car…_

A tug, Akihiko felt it just then. It was as if someone had literally reached into his chest and forcibly tried to pry his heart out, and just before his eyes rounded from the intense pain, he forced them to relax. This wasn't the place to cry. Besides, there'd be no use in crying over spilt milk… After all, it wouldn't bring Takahiro back. _What I wouldn't give to see you…_ He meant it, and although he didn't believe in an afterlife, he hadn't minded the idea of ridding himself from earth in hopes of at least getting to see Takahiro for a final time, either...

 _Look at me_ , he mused, making a 'tch' sound. He was quick to blink the suicidal thought away. _Takahiro wouldn't want that…_

While inspecting the cigarette box he was still clutching, he almost sighed at how dramatic he was being—not for wishing doom upon Misaki after seeing him with his friends earlier, but because he had forgotten to purchase _more_ of his favorite brand of cancer sticks.

He usually bought them in bulk.

Twisting his key in the ignition, the car revved to life and he flipped the right switch behind the wheel to turn his windshield wipers on. "Damn brat," he murmured for what appeared to be the hundredth time that evening. After pulling the gearshift from 'park' and into 'drive', he sped off...

He had only been driving for about twenty minutes when he heard his phone ringing. Opting to ignore the caller, he flew down the road—his speed increasing as much as his boiling anger. The person on the other end of the line was no unfamiliar: Aikawa.

 _That woman…_ he thought bitterly. He didn't know what she was expecting to happen today, but he certainly didn't get the closure he needed. If anything, seeing Misaki only increased his likelihood of wanting to murder the teen. The only thing saving Misaki at this point was…

 _Takahiro's heart…_

Sighing, he knew Aikawa had been right about what she said earlier… _Takahiro…_ His mind had wandered elsewhere, allowing only the sound of the rain to comfort him. It was getting quite difficult to continue life without Takahiro there... _I'd end my life right now... just to see you... if only I knew you wouldn't be upset that I wasted it._ Because of his pondering, he ran a red a light at the large, busy intersection, directly towards the area of the brick-red crosswalk.

Horns were blaring at him and several vehicles swerved to halt, barely missing his precious sports car. It wasn't until he became aware of what he'd done that he simply slammed on his breaks to avoid hitting any of the passerby's on the crosswalk he nearly rammed into. There wasn't an ounce of empathy—nor surprise—in his eyes as he did this, only bored crabbiness from wanting to hurry home. Only then did his eyes round when he saw who one of the stranger's was—who was walking through the rain with no umbrella and looking as miserable as he had prior to seeing his friends… "Misaki," he whispered.

This time, Akihiko _did_ get out of the car, despite holding up the _entire_ flow of traffic. He ignored the loud horns, the profanities, and the rain soaking his hair and clothes, narrowing his eyes at the teen as best he could in the relentless weather.

"Misaki," he said again in a clipped tone, stepping around his vehicle.

Misaki's brows were furrowing while he squinted under the harsh bright lights coming from Akihiko's sports car—and the unforgiving rain dripping off his long lashes... down his face... "Y-you know me?" He was shivering, hugging himself for comfort. _He looks_ really _mad… but he's the one who almost_ me _with his car… Do_ I _know_ him _?_

"I knew your brother." Akihiko crossed his arms, and the bold movement caused Misaki to blink rapidly. The man resembled a Thunder God in his soaked dark shirt—which caused his slender frame to be visibly appealing, as well as his daring violet eyes that gave Misaki no indication of the rain bothering him. He looked immune to the madness of this weather…

 _He knew Takahiro?_ Immediately Misaki's eyes lit up. "Oh! Are…?" Biting his lip, he rubbed his forearms. "Are you Akihiko…?"

 _Yes_ , the man thought. "No." He wasn't sure why he wasn't being truthful, but he didn't owe Misaki answers. If anything, he felt that it was the other way around. He ignored the sounds of loud horns—and the offensive words being shouted at him—although he didn't miss the way Misaki's cheeks reddened upon hearing them. Instead, he opted to ask, "How do _you_ know Akihiko?"

Rubbing his arms again to find heat, Misaki said, "I got a birthday card from school earlier. It was signed by him…"

 _I gave you no such thing._ A superior hand lifted. "Let me see."

Misaki didn't quite trust the man's tone and his eyes became a little guarded. _He looks like he hates me. Maybe he heard about what I did to cause the accident…_ "Actually, I was on my way to see him," was the careful reply.

Violet eyes widened briefly before they relaxed, masking themselves behind a calculated glower. _I wouldn't even grant you entry… Although…_ If Misaki were alone, he could ask about the accident. "I was on my way to see him," he lied. "Would you like a ride?"

Misaki was quick to shake his head, taking a step back. "Um, no that's okay. You don't really seem to be willing and I didn't mean to bother you…" He wasn't sure why he was apologizing for the man running a red light and almost hitting him.

Tilting his head, Akihiko asked, "You'd rather walk all the way to his penthouse without an umbrella?" He looked bored by the way his eyes glanced down the street. "It's two cities over from here and you'll catch pneumonia by the time you arrive at the station…" _I'm not letting you die over something so trivial, not while carrying Takahiro's heart._

 _So, he knows it's two cities over_ , Misaki thought. _And that it's a penthouse... He could be his friend, or maybe Akihiko's roommate—_

Misaki didn't have time to think before Akihiko approached him and took his right arm, leading him to the passenger's door. After opening it, he pushed the seat up and harshly guided the teen into the back seat, sealing him inside by pulling the passenger's seat back in place. As he slammed the door shut, he ruefully knew that there was no way he'd let Misaki occupy the passenger's seat and that the idea of Misaki even sitting _beside_ him repulsed him. "Aikawa," he said to himself as he paced around the car. He knew she had something to do with this…

* * *

The car ride was mostly silent, save for Akihiko's ringing phone, and when he saw the way Misaki was trembling in the back seat, he turned on the heater. Don't mistake his motives; he was only doing this so that the heart Misaki was carrying wouldn't suffer... However, upon seeing the way Misaki's nose wrinkled, he quirked an annoyed brow. "What's wrong?"

Startled, Misaki shrugged. "Ah, it's nothing!" His flaming cheeks said otherwise, and the car smelled _horrible_ , like cigarettes. He could practically envision a doctor telling him he'd received lung cancer due to second hand smoke by the end of the car ride. The stench was making his stomach ache. "T-thank you for giving me a ride." He mopped the excess water off his face, feeling his lips quivering, although he was grateful when he saw the man turn the black dial on heat up from one to four.

Akihiko grunted carelessly. "What made you want to see Akihiko?" he asked as he ignored his blinker and turned onto another street. "On _today_ of all days…" Even though his voice was soft and low, reminding Misaki of a beautiful baritone, the teen could still hear the bitter bite behind each syllable. This was the tone of a man scorned, a man out for revenge.

"He told me to," Misaki murmured, fishing for the birthday card in his pockets. He sounded unsure of himself, like he was afraid of speaking, but he pulled the item out, unfolding it three times and leaning forward to hand it to the man when he stopped at the red light. As he watched Akihiko's eyes scan the crumpled paper in the rearview mirror.

 _Aikawa_ , he internally grumbled. She had his address written in her handwriting, along with the code to get into his penthouse scrawled on there. He quietly asked, "How do you know Akihiko?"

"I'm his roommate," was the curt reply. _And this is Aikawa's handwriting..._ He lifted the paper over his shoulder, waving it around twice in a bid to give it back to Misaki. Those violet eyes were glaring at him now, daring him to ask another personal question.

Misaki grabbed the paper as if it would burn him, and once he had, his eyes darted towards the back window, feeling the cold stare still aimed in their direction. "I… maybe I should just go home instead…" It was clear this man knew of the accident Misaki had caused all those years ago...

Not seeming the least intrigued with the conversation, or Misaki's timidness, Akihiko asked, "Why?"

Misaki's eyes… they were distant now, as if... "You know what happened, don't you—the accident I caused?"

"Only what your aunt and uncle told me at the funeral," he admitted. "Which wasn't all too informative, but enough to know that _you're_ the reason why your family is dead." Harsh, but entirely true… Although he _did_ want to hear Misaki's side of the story. It would help him put some missing pieces to what Misaki's aunt and uncle had told him.

Flinching, Misaki lowered his head and he began nodding as he clasped his hands in his lap, further crinkling the card in his hand. "Y-yeah… I didn't mean it." He wasn't sure why he'd spoken the last part aloud, but he had. He sounded childish.

"But it _still_ happened," Akihiko said, sounding firm and final. _And now they're gone…_ He scoffed spitefully, glowering as he slammed his foot down on the gas pedal when the light turned green. "How do you live with yourself knowing that?" His begrudging question emitted a surprised gasp from both him and Misaki, and his foot that was resting on the gas pedal stalled briefly.

For a long time, Misaki was quite. He debated on whether or not it was safe enough to be alone with a man—whose name he still hadn't acquired—in the emotional state that he was currently in. He almost laughed in spite of himself; he'd only been used to feeling guilt and heartache from the accident, never experiencing the same sentiments being projected at him from anyone else... All the same, it _hurt_ and his hand touched his chest, gripping the fabric.

He could feel Takahiro's heart aching in his chest, as if a weight had been tossed and wouldn't remove itself—suffocating him. "I…" His eyes began to sting, and he tried his best to blink them away. _I don't think I can muster a smile right now…_ Truly unfortunate, really. And he'd been doing so well up until then. "I just…" His lips were quivering again, but not from the cold. "P-please take me h-home." He was practically begging.

Akihiko was feeling extremely gratified about the situation now, even smirking slightly at the repentance on Misaki's face. _You should feel what I feel everyday._ You _should be rotting in the ground, not my Takahiro._ "I know your address." Misaki didn't question the statement. He figured one of Takahiro's friends would remember it.

Unable to reply, Misaki placed his hood over his head and kept his gaze focused on his lap, ducking his head… He'd made a mistake getting into the car, and with a stranger nonetheless... how foolish, and dangerous. He had Takahiro's heart to think about, not just his life. If Takahiro's heart failed, he'd break his promise of living...

* * *

Roughly thirty minutes later, Akihiko was pulling up to the sidewalk beside Misaki's home, and once he'd put the car in park, he turned the engine off, along with his lights. The sound of the rain pouring was the only sound each of them welcomed while they waited in silence. Akihiko was half-tempted to throw the weeping teen out of his car, but he preferred to see the sight he was witnessing in the backseat. Misaki was crying, an ashamed mess if he'd ever seen one.

"We're here," Akihiko said, unable to remove the smirk from his lips.

"…It doesn't," Misaki finally answered in a hoarse voice. He had yet to spare the man a glance.

Akihiko's brow arched, seeing fresh tears falling from Misaki's hooded face as his green eyes gazed down. "What doesn't?"

"Your question before," Misaki explained, meeting his stare in the rearview mirror. His eyes were extremely pink and large bags were puffing around them. "It doesn't feel like anything—I…" He swallowed the lump in his throat, vaguely shaking his head as he combed his hand through his hair, unaware that he'd effectively taken his hood off in the process. "I know I don't deserve to be here, to be _alive_... so I..." He huffed. "I just get by…" He missed the way Akihiko's own eyes widened. Clearly the man wasn't expecting a confession so... so saddening.

 _I don't care_ , he lied to himself, narrowing his eyes at Misaki. But the more he stared, the longer his resolve began to break.

 _"I think you'll be more inclined to visit Misaki once you get over_ how _it happened and realize that the best thing you loved about Takahiro is still perfectly alive and well."_

 _He almost scoffed at the idea. "Really?" His right brow arched. "Where is it then?"_

 _"It's with his little brother, right in his chest."_

Akihiko covered his mouth absently, muffling the unpleasant groan that managed to force it's way up his throat and out of his lips.

"But I'm trying," Misaki said, breaking Akihiko from his thoughts. "Because I know it's what Takahiro wanted… It's the reason he gave me his heart in the first place… to…" He bit his bottom lips and shyly replied, "To _live_."

Akihiko closed his eyes, leaning into his seat while he absorbed the teen's words. "...I honestly can't stand you," he admitted, and it almost pained him to say it. Takahiro would be upset to hear him say such an offensive thing.

"I know," Misaki assured him with an awkward nod.

"…But for what it's worth," Akihiko whispered. "I'd like you to live, too."

Creases formed on Misaki's forehead. "…W-why?"

"Because it's _his_ heart, isn't it?" He opened his eyes to see more tears rolling down Misaki's cheeks, dripping from his chin and hitting the birthday card in his lap. "I don't have time for guilt tears, Misaki." He instantly regretted his words. That wasn't what he'd meant specifically; he just wasn't sure how to react when someone was emotionally distressed.

The sad laugh Misaki produced startled him and he unbuckled his seatbelt. Turning as best as he could in his seat, he propped his forearm on the headrest and began observing the way Misaki rubbed at his watery eyes with his clammy fingers. "You find that humorous?" He looked offended.

"I'm not crying for myself," Misaki stated softly, shaking his head. He rolled his shoulders, sniffling the mucus that he was sure had been dripping from his nostrils. "It's just that… I feel upset knowing that Takahiro left Akihiko behind, and knowing that Akihiko no longer has a friend."

Akihiko made an uncomfortable sound, as if he were being strangled. _I'm not feeling sorry for you just because you feel sorry for me…_ Or so he'd thought. "Akihiko has other friends," he reminded. Who was he kidding? He only had two; the rest of his contacts were either unwanted family or people from the publishing company.

"Not a _best_ friend," Misaki clarified. He was smiling at the thought. "I think... I remember now... him talking about Akihiko being his best friend." Misaki lifted his palms as if he were holding a weight, as if he were seeing them for the first time and his grin vanished. "And I ruined that; I _ruined_ Akihiko's life…"

Violet eyes softened, and any anger towards the teen was slowly diminishing. _He's upset on_ my _behalf...?_ How could he hate him now... He nearly scoffed. _It'd be damn difficult, but I'm going to try..._ "Misaki—"

The teen wasn't looking at him, far too focused on his hands, which had now squeezed into fists. "And I know I was family, but for Takahiro to make a decision like that and not tell Akihiko until it was too late—until he was already gone, and Akihiko probably didn't even get a chance to say goodbye!"

"Misaki!" Akihiko called again, louder this time.

"Knowing that I caused that, I'm… I just _really_ wanted to see him today and tell him I'm sorry!" Misaki was rocking back in forth, clutching both sides of his head while he gazed down at the birthday card. "I want to tell him what I told you—that I don't deserve to be here… T-takahiro does…"

"...Misaki—"

"Can you let me out?" was the timid, broken request. Those broken green eyes were boring into his now the more the teen rocked. " _Please_ open the door?" He needed Akihiko to lift either of the seats up so that he could climb out of the car. Akihiko did as he was asked, getting out and allowing Misaki to crawl out from his side. The rain had let up and it was nightfall, but Misaki didn't give him time to talk—to apologize for what he'd asked earlier.

With a bow, Misaki said, "Arigato," all with a perfect smile plastered on his face.

As he hurried towards his home, Akihiko shut his car door and locked it. "Misaki!" Following after him, he didn't manage to get to the front door before Misaki had entered his home and slammed it shut.

Rushing up the concrete, Akihiko nearly tripped with his frantic footing. He touched the knob when he arrived, twisting it open with ease to find that it had been unlocked... "Misaki," he called softly as he walked in and gently closed it behind him. Violet eyes were clouding with worry, inspecting the empty hall with darting eyes. "Misaki…?"

He could hear sniffling somewhere and he paced further down the carpeted, green hall. "Misaki?"

"I don't know what to do anymore," he heard the teen say. "I tried to be happy, like you said, Takahiro."

Quickening his steps, Akihiko entered into the living room to see Misaki sitting on the floor with his hands clasped atop the coffee table in a sort of praying position. He was staring at a fixed spot on the couch and paying Akihiko no mind.

"But I can't," Misaki said to no one. He reminded Akihiko of drunk without the drink, a person pouring his heart out while sulking in their own self loathing. "I miss you _so_ much…"

Softening his eyes, Akihiko stepped forward. "I miss him, too." Green eyes flickered towards his own, feeling betrayed and confused upon seeing him.

"What are you doing here?" He didn't bother to stand from where he was sitting, on his knees.

Akihiko crept up beside him now, cupping the teen's face in his hand while he knelt and gently forced Misaki to keep eye contact with him.

"W-what are you doing?" Misaki asked breathlessly. His pitch was barely audible, as if he'd been screaming for hours on end...

"You're crying," came the peaceful reply. Careful fingers brushed Misaki's bangs out of his tearful eyes. "Uncontrollably, at that…" He looked adorable.

"I don't know how to stop when I get like this," Misaki admitted, sniffling. He diverted his gaze to the floor when he saw the small smile spreading on the man's lips. _I thought he was mad at me...?_

As Akihiko dipped his head down, he pressed his lips against each of Misaki's eyelids, knowing that a kiss on the lips might be too left field for either of them to handle. Something in him had clicked after hearing that Misaki was crying for him earlier, and he couldn't quite put his finger on what emotion it was—possibly because he'd only ever experienced anger and regret since the accident—but whatever the feeling, he welcomed it.

He wanted to get to know Misaki… Perhaps Aikawa was right after all.

Seeing the rosy shade on Misaki's cheeks as he pulled away, and the way his lips parted, caused a small smile of his own to appear. "You stopped," he whispered. Carefully, he retreated his hand from Misaki entirely, unsure of what to do next. He hadn't felt this way in a while, but he was sure Misaki didn't feel the same sentiments of… whatever it was that he felt…

At first, Misaki said nothing, taking in the attractive man before him. It was nearly _impossible_ for someone to miss a man that breathtaking, but somehow Misaki had… Perhaps it was due to the pouring rain combined with his tears earlier, or maybe even the arrogant attitude...

 _Definitely the latter_ , Misaki thought. "…Usagi-san," Misaki whispered, earning a gasp from the older. "That's what he used to call Akihiko… wasn't it?" _I'm not sure why I remember that…_ But the nickname made him smile, if only for a moment.

A 'tch' sound was heard as Akihiko fully seated himself on the floor and propped his arms on the coffee table the same way he'd seen Misaki do earlier. _Takahiro he's nothing like you_ , he mused, although there was a small smirk on his lips. "How did you know?"

"I just remembered," Misaki answered, copying the man's actions when he noticed that Akihiko was sitting Indian style. The silence that ensued was quite bearable now, and Misaki couldn't help but wish to keep the conversation going. Little did he know that Akihiko was feeling the same…

"You're staying here all by yourself…?" he asked.

Misaki watched the man as he spoke, taking in every fine detail on his face—the way his Adam's apple moved as he spoke, or the pained way he'd stare at the couch and shortly avoid the direction entirely moments later, probably envisioning Misaki talking to it when he arrived. Akihiko was fascinating to watch—almost in an unhealthy, obsessive sense…

"Yeah…" Misaki blinked all random thoughts of the man's good looks to the back of his mind. This was his late brother's friend, not someone he… _Wait_ , he thought. _We're both guys, so…_ He'd never had a significant other— _ever_ —so he wasn't aware of what his sexuality was, and truth be told, he'd never given the idea much thought until now. _Maybe…_

He face palmed. _Maybe Takahiro was right; the truth really_ is _stranger than fiction._

Akihiko took the action as Misaki taking offense. "I'm upsetting you…"

Dropping his right hand, Misaki shook his head. "I—No, well… It's not what you think."

"Enlighten me," was the quiet demand.

The teen squinted at him, pressing his lips in a timid line. "...You never ask for anything you want, do you?" Misaki was sure that a simple 'please' could take a man farther in life than any order.

Unimpressed, Akihiko asked, "Why should I?"

 _…Holy crap; he's serious!_ Misaki parted his lips, only to shut them and sigh. "You're really weird…"

"Says the boy who let a stranger into his home."

Smiling triumphantly, Misaki slowly shook his head. "No… you knew Takahiro, _and_ you know Akihiko."

Feeling like the cocky bastard that he was, Akihiko propped his elbow on the coffee table, resting his chin on his knuckles. "Why do you live by yourself? I recall your aunt and uncle taking care of you." _Or claiming to..._

Misaki waved the notion off with his left hand, diverting his gaze downwards. "They give me funds whenever they visit."

"'Whenever they visit?'"

A tired huff of breath escaped Misaki's lips as he rolled his shoulders and sat cross-legged. Tapping his right knee, he said, "We're not close…" His brows were knitted and his lips were pursed. Frustration at it's finest.

For some reason, Akihiko felt remorse for the teen. "Even after—?"

"Especially not after _that_ … I'm their chore; that's it…" He left the sentence to trail once he noticed the thoughtful look the man was giving him, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

 _Because your pouty face is adorable_ , Akihiko thought. "…Would you like to stay with me?" He watched the astonishment flash in those beautiful green eyes, along with the contemplation absorbing them shortly afterwards. Of course this was a lot to take in on the _first_ meeting, and he hadn't even revealed his true name. So he wasn't surprised to see Misaki disagreeing with the idea all in one head gesture.

"I'm sure Akihiko would mind," Misaki said quickly, searching for excuses.

"And I'm sure he wouldn't," Akihiko said with furrowed brows. He detected the nervousness in Misaki's tone, but he didn't want to leave him. He was spoiled in a sense, having never been told 'no' as a child. "I'd enjoy having someone around who can look after themselves, since I'm less competent in the kitchen and doing household chores… Akihiko is no different."

Misaki was anxiously brushing his bangs out of his eyes. "I… I don't think so. I…" _If I leave this house to my aunt and uncle, they'll get rid of all mom and dad's things… all of_ Takahiro's _things… I can't do that to nii-san…_

 _They can't touch them; no one can._

"No," Misaki said again, more confident in his speech. "I can't." He was bound to this house and he'd be damned if he left it. He'd at least have to find himself a job so that his aunt and uncle wouldn't force it from him, although it _was_ paid for. The necessary bills needed to keep it running were what he was worried about but a job could easily allow him to keep the home… Except no one was willing to hire him right now.

 _I've still got a year_ , he thought. _I can do this. Don't worry, nii-san._

After realizing that Misaki wasn't going to give in, Akihiko decided to nod, rising to his feet. "Then I'll see you tomorrow, if that's all right?" The request was out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

Misaki nodded cautiously. "I'd… I'd like that," he admitted with a blush, scratching the back of his head. "This is actually one of the best birthdays I've had in a long time…" _Being with you made it easier, despite the drive here…_

"For what I said earlier," Akihiko began, feeling creases form on his forehead. "I'm truly sorry."

Peering up was a bad idea for two reasons. One: Misaki could see the anguish in the man's eyes. Two: His face was nearly in direct line of his—

"Problem," Misaki murmured absently. Hearing himself, he blurted out, "I mean, it's no problem _now_ —well, it is—I mean, I'm not upset anymore!" He was rambling. "I'm not sure what I'm saying…" He was clearly focused on _one_ thing now.

It didn't disappoint, either.

 _Does this mean I like guys?_ the teen probed.

"Cute," Akihiko said with a smirk. He wasn't sure he meant for Misaki to hear it. Then again, he wasn't sure how this situation had taken a turn for the best, so he wasn't complaining.

"Right…" Misaki stood, hurrying by him to lead him to the door. Akihiko followed behind with his grin still perfectly in tact. Today had definitely been interesting.

Once they arrived at the front door, Misaki opened it and leaned against the frame, watching as the man exited.

"See you tomorrow, Misaki," Akihiko said. The tone was the gentlest Misaki had ever heard him use.

Looking at the man's retreating back, Misaki said, "See you tomorrow… Usagi-san."

The man nearly tripped on his route down the walkway, whirling around with the most surprised of expressions. Taking an absent step back towards Misaki, he narrowed his eyes and asked, "How did…?"

"The cologne Takahiro wore…" Misaki explained. "It's on the passenger's seat of your car..." Peering over at him, he said, "That's why you made me sit in the back."

Akihiko scoffed, turning to stare at the nearby bushes. "I won't admit to anything."

A rare, genuine smile flashed on Misaki's lips. "I remember now..." he whispered. "Takahiro had once said that his best friend Usagi-san bought this new cologne for him, and that it was his favorite." Hitching his thumb over his shoulder, he said, "I spray it on the area of the couch where he used to sit…" Not giving the man a chance to react, he simply bowed his head and closed the door behind him, reminding himself to actually lock it this time. It wasn't until he sank to the floor and hugged his knees to his chest that he realized for the first time in years, he didn't have to remind himself to smile.

It was just there, as if it had a mind of it's own, all thanks to—

"Usagi-san," he whispered, feeling his grin widened. He couldn't wait to see his new friend again, a friend of _Takahiro's_ , and when he touched his chest, the flutters in Takahiro's heart felt... different. He was experiencing a new kind of emotion and it wasn't what he was used to.

…

 **A/N:** I thought of breaking this up into two chapters, but longer chaps are my calling. Plus I didn't want them arguing the entire time, but I _do_ want the constant strain of what Misaki did to be there, and I _do_ want their relationship to actually take some time to develop and not force it. Dare I say this _might_ be another one of my slow romance fics? I really love those lol I don't like meshing characters together and going, "Yeah that happened, now they're undeniably in love bitches mwhahahaha! Suck on that!" It's not my thing. ;[

Sorry for the long update, too. Between work and my health, I'm not in the greatest of places right now. God help me when school starts.

You can leave a review, fav, or alert if you'd like. I'm open to any and I'd love to hear your opinions, the good, the bad, and the questionably honest.

Sincerely,

AJ

 **Fangirl18:** Thank you! Hope you liked their messy interactions!

 **Guest:** Heh-heh, well I did put in _some_ angsty stuff... Thanks!


End file.
